The Frigid Winds of Change
by The Silverblood Writer
Summary: In a world ravaged by the Calamity, Link and Zelda were both slain along with their Champions. Now, 100 years later, a lone hunter encounters the Goddess descendant, wounded and dying. No matter her fate, the hunter understands one thing: Ganon's seeming eternal reign will come to an end.
1. Hebra

The weather in the Hebra Mountains was always the same: cold, dry air that seemed to bite into your skin, chilling you to the bone. It seemed like you'd never be warm again; not unless you were out of the harsh winds. It was always either shrouded in clouds or snowing, and in the rare moments of sunlight, reflections ruined your vision, making hunting food- a necessary component of survival- impossible.

The snow was even worse. Never less than a foot deep, it was impossible to trudge through it at a quick pace, not to mention the dampness that continued to linger, even when sheltered.

While water was (unfortunately) in great abundance, food was scarce. The animals that prowled the snowy plains had adapted to the weather, and camouflage made it nearly impossible to strike them, even for the most skilled hunters. There were few crops; what little agriculture still remained was limited to a sparse number of wildberries that scattered the tundra, the roots barely holding in the few areas that had no snow. The soil there had almost no nutrients, and the ground was hard and cold; replanting anything was impossible.

Despite the harsh climate and lack of food, the mountains were, in a way, the safest place in Hyrule. Monsters prowled the ranges, but in sparse numbers; the majority of Ganon's legions weren't strong enough to survive in the sub-zero conditions, and the ones that did had an eviscerating weakness to fire. The corrupted guardians' joints froze in place, and the snow obscured the laser-focusing system they used to obliterate their targets. The rest of Hyrule was practically crawling with monsters, who enforced Ganon's kingship with an iron fist.

Link was lucky. He had grown up in a stable on the Tundra, where his mother raised him to despise the Calamity's rule, despite the ever-looming threat of the moblins who patrolled the stable grounds. After his mother was killed for her treachery, Link was thrown into an internal turmoil. Emotions had risen inside him: rage, despair, fury. It was as if the one anchor to happiness he had was suddenly gone, the thin line snapped, sending Link spiraling into a whirlpool of his own emotions. One night, he used a broom handle to incapacitate the silver moblin who had been on duty, and fled to the mountain range. They thought nothing of it. A fourteen-year old wouldn't make it very far on his own, and he'd die naturally.

But Link didn't die naturally. In fact, he was thriving in the mountain ranges. Over a period of about a month, he'd found several forgotten weapons and tools, he'd learned to harvest the pine trees for firewood while conserving as many resources as possible, and most importantly, he'd mastered the bow.

His bow was nothing impressive: just a simple traveler's bow he'd found half frozen into the ground. Through immense effort, he'd been able to slowly pry it out of the snow. But it got the job done, and as he ambushed more monsters, he was slowly able to add more arrows to his quiver.

He was currently using the bow, though not for monsters. Link's practiced fingers traced over the oak wood, smooth and polished. The cold air stung his cheeks, and his fingers were numb with cold, but nonetheless he remained still, silent, waiting.

A huge moose trotted through the field, it's heavy breaths causing little steamy clouds to appear in the air in front of it. The huge antlers were somewhat intimidating, but would make for good arrow tips once refined and sharpened. Huge brown eyes scoured the landscape for a source of food. It was at one of the two eyes that Link's arrow was pointed. The tip quivered slightly as Link's hands trembled from the cold, and the bow moved each time he breathed. Despite the movement, Link was confident in his aim.

His shoulders strained from the strength required to pull back the bowstring, and his numbing fingers ached as he held the string on either side of the arrow. Link inhaled heavily and held his breath. It was as if all time slowed down around him as he loosed the arrow… with nothing but a soft swish, the arrow flew from the bow, the glossy blue feathers catching the small amount of sunlight that made its way into the valley as the arrow flew.

With a quiet but definite thunk, the arrow landed in the moose's eye socket. With a pained roar, it fell to the ground. Link approached it and finished the job, using a smallish Rito-made dagger.

Link sighed in relief. He'd been tracking the beast for three days now, each day more tiring than the last. At the rate he was going, he previously feared he was expending more food while traveling than he'd be gaining. But the moose had been eating well, and the hide and arrows would prove to be invaluable. He'd grown tired of living off of foxes and squirrels, with an occasional few wildberries tossed in. He murmured a prayer of thanks to Farore, who he considered his personal deity, and began his slow ascent towards the North Peak.

His cabin was nearish the summit, and it was quite a climb. Apparently it had once belonged to a shield surfer named Selmie, but it had been abandoned years ago. It took a while to reach the cabin, and when the worn, reddish fabric of the old banner could be seen cresting over the hill, Link was beside himself with relief. It was a climb in itself, and it didn't help that he was carrying an adult moose on his back. It should have been impossible to carry, but Link had adapted to the lifestyle, and his muscles were up to the task, provided he had a fair amount of breaks. Even the strongest among us need to recuperate while in the Hebra Mountains.

As aforementioned, the mountain air was cold and biting, and it was a welcomed relief for Link to finally stumble into the cabin. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, the air inside was warmer and moister than the frigid climate of the peaks. He ripped off the gloves he wore, made of hide from a squirrel he'd managed to kill in his first few weeks in the mountains. The tips of his fingers were white, though the palms were an angry red. Link shoved his hands in front of the warm hearth, and moaned in relief as the heat rejuvenated his frozen limbs.

With a groan, he pulled his gloves back on and trudged towards the door. In moments like these, he was thankful for the furs he wore. Cleaning a kill was tiring, but the lack of motion in his core caused him to freeze quicker than he wanted to. Warm furs seemed like a blessing from Farore herself.

He got to work skinning his kill. The fit was warm and thick, and Link made a mental note to make it into a blanket, or something else to keep him warm. He brought the skin to a nearby rock, exposed to the sunlight. Surprisingly enough, lizalfos blood was acidic enough to be used as a tanning agent, which was how Link made the majority of his clothes, sans the fur he used for his jackets and boots.

As he worked on carefully removing the antlers, a strange noise came from behind him. Link whipped around, holding his knife in front of him. His blue eyes scoured the landscape, but he couldn't see anything other than the snowy cliffs and the strange old shrine that stood near his cabin. He thought nothing of it, and returned to work.

But he couldn't work… the noise disturbed him. He couldn't risk being caught, especially after living outside Ganon's rule for so many years. He left when he was fourteen… five years later, he was nineteen, nearing twenty. And now, he wasn't a scared child anymore. He was strong enough to survive, going so far as to frequently ambush camps of monsters, mostly for supplies. Of course, he didn't actively wage war against the Calamity, but living as a prisoner wasn't Link's idea of living.

Eventually, curiosity seized Link, and slowly, robotically, he walked over to the source of the noise: the shrine. The Shada Naw Shrine was of little interest to Link, nothing but an old artifact. The shrine, for the most part, gleamed with a soft bluish light, but the top, emblazoned with a Sheikah symbol, was a warm tone of orange. When he previously took interest in it, he'd discovered the material was slippery and hard, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break the material off or climb to the top. Now, it stood alone and unperturbed, serving no purpose other than a beacon for Link to follow home.

Except the shrine wasn't alone. Sprawled out on the blue age of the shrine was a smallish figure. Link couldn't make out any further details. Cautiously, he edged closer, his footsteps crunching in the snow much louder than he liked. Although the figure seemed rather… incapacitated… he wasn't going to take chances. Odds were, it was a disguised Yiga assassin, here to clean up a loose end.

Then he saw the blood. Red, sticky, and still flowing from an open wound in the figure's side. A part of Link urged him to turn away, to let this mystery figure die in the ice, and save him the time, trouble, and resources. On the other hand, a partner could be of value to his survival. Not to mention, it was simply the decent thing to do.

Link ran over to her- it was clearly a "her", blonde hair flowed down her back in a waterfall of spun gold. But the golden waterfall was stained with red streaks, causing it to stick andumo together. Tattered blue clothes that were in no way equipped against the frigid mountain air barely clung to her motionless figure; they were muddy and stained with her own blood. In her right hand, she loosely grasped an intricate-looking broadsword- gold and emblazoned with the crest of Hyrule. In her left, a strange, tablet-like device loosely dangled from her fingers. Her hair covered her face, obscuring Link's view, but it was of little concern to Link. What concerned him was the wound in her side.

It wasn't a common scrape, not even a sword wound. The shirt around it had completely torn away, leaving the wound fully exposed to the environment. The skin around it was red and burnt, and the wound itself was still oozing blood. The air was filled with a metallic scent: the sickening smell of human blood. Careful not to touch the raw, exposed area, Link placed one hand under her arm. The other reached under her knees, and with a grunt he lifted her into the air. Her hair fell away from her face, and Link noticed that she was around his age, maybe a bit younger.

Carefully keeping the wound from bridging into anything, Link carried her inside, gently laying her on his bed. With a steady hand, he peeled away the jacket that covered half her torso.

Her figure was somewhat muscular, but still sleek and feminine. Her chest rose and fell as she took shallow breaths, but at least she was still breathing. The majority of her slim torso was obscured by the blood, but from what Link could see, she wasn't malnourished like many of the people living under Ganon's law.

The first thing Link needed to do was stop the bleeding. It had slowed down considerably, but consistently continued to seep red fluid through her shirt. Link gently pressed a wolf pelt to the wound. He'd hoped he'd illicit some response, but she remained still as a statue, the only motion the heaving of her chest.

After melting some snow over the fire, Link poured the cold water over the wound. It was remarkably quite clean, especially for something so severe. Link suspected a guardian was at fault, but why would a guardian concern itself with this woman? All he could do was cover the wound before it could fester, and apply some snow to the angry red burns.

He left the rest up to the Goddesses. If they intended for her to live, so be it.

She looked so peaceful sleeping. As the blood-red moon rose over the peaks, Link drifted off to sleep on the floor beside the bed.

As he drifted off to sleep, Link had a sinking feeling that something big was about to happen. Something he did not bargain for.

-]I=- 

Hey everyone! Silver here. I have a horrible case of writer's block, and I haven't been able to do much progress on my main story, When Our Paths Collide. I wanted to write something, so here's the finished product. I'll be sure to update this one, and Paths, quite soon.

If you see any mistakes, feel free to leave a review of PM me… I'm using my phone to write this because I am currently on vacation, and I did not bring my laptop.

Hope you enjoyed this! Oh, and tell me if you'd like me to add OCs to this story, or keep it with canonical characters.

~Silver


	2. Announcement

Alright, normally I put little tidbits of information at the bottom or top of each chapter, but I'm making a formal announcement for this one.

After a lot of thinking about future plot development, I've elected that I need a group of characters later on in the future, specifically non-canon characters. While I could use names from other series, I instead thought it would be more fun and diversified if I added OCs. If you're interested in seeing your OC appear in this story, please PM me with any information regarding your character. Or, if you're here as a guest, leave it in the reviews.

**Helpful Information:**

-Name (Obviously)

-Physical appearance, including height, weight, and clothes.

-Background

-How they interact with other characters.

-What's their personality like?

-Likes and dislikes, etc.

-Character's motivations. _Why _would they save the world? Or, if we're putting villains in here, why do they want to end it?

**-**Give your character some life... give me a few obscure details that give them some aspect of personality.

-Anything else that might be helpful!

So… I'd appreciate hearing from everyone! Writing about the same characters over and over again gets boring, so how about you help me zest it up?

Thanks everyone!

~Silver


	3. Fríge

Link had begun to give up hope that the woman would ever wake up. Five days, five long, agonizing days of waiting for her to awaken had already passed.

Things weren't too bleak. He'd been able to dress the wound without it bleeding all over his bed, which was something of a relief. Link, no matter how much he had to do in order to survive, did _not _want to spend a night in someone else's blood.

The moose from earlier provided a decent meal, although somewhat bland without any herbs or spices. Link began to fantasize about adding Hylian herbs, and then had an internal debate about the proper way to pronounce the word "herb."

Link hadn't dared steal away from the cabin while awaiting for this girl to wake up, and instead did other important tasks, namely gathering and drying firewood. But eventually, he began to grow more and more anxious. The girl seemed to be caught in a state between life and death.

The hike was long and tiring. Link would have preferred shield surfing, but he needed to keep a low profile, even if it came at the expense of having a bit of fun. By the end of the hike, Link's legs felt like chuchu jelly: weak and wobbly.

At the base of the range was another cabin, this one slightly easier to reach than Link's, which was located near the summit. This cabin was no less fortified, in fact, the range around it provided extra cover from the monsters and the elements.

Wearily, Link knocked on the door three times. The door was rough, rougher than his, presumably from the lack of wind and rocks constantly scraping against it and wearing it down. Three large claw marks marred the surface, but those were old, no real cause for concern. Probably some old bear, or maybe a wolf.

The door opened a sliver, and warm air blasted his face from a smoking hearth inside. He was greeted with an inquisitive, pale blue eye staring at his. The door swung open.

The girl inside was happy to see him, and as the majority of her face was revealed, so was her other eye: deep violet, almost the color of obsidian. A small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Link! It's good to see you." She moved forward, wrapping her arms around Link's torso. Link hugged her back, welcoming the gesture. Fríge was always like a sister to him, and seeing her always put him somewhat at ease. But the looming presence of the girl in the cabin still remained, lingering in the corners of his mind.

"Hey, Fríge." Link returned the smile, though the thought of the girl in his cabin seemed to weigh on the corners of his lips. His smile was strained. Link hoped Fríge wouldn't notice.

"Something wrong?"

Damn. She noticed. Link cleared his throat. "Well, er- yeah, you could say that."

"Bokoblins burn down your house or something?" Fríge said with a light laugh. "I mean, if they did, you could crash with me."

"No, actually. It's something completely different."

"I must confess, I am intrigued. Why could the stoic, lonesome hunter of the Hebra region need my assistance for?"

Link rolled his eyes. "No, and I'm not 'stoic and lonesome,' he said, making little air quotes. "I actually need medical advice."

Fríge's demeanor changed immediately. She stiffened up, mismatched eyes flashing. "Why? Are you hurt?"

Link waved her off. "Not hurt, no. I'm actually fine, but… how do I explain this…"

"Well?" Fríge's impatiently tapped her foot on the cabin floor. "Look, Link, medical emergencies are no joke. Especially living in these mountains."

Outside, the wind howled. Link glanced out the window; the footprints he'd made on his way here were already mostly covered by a blanket of snow. Sighing, he looked back at Fríge.

"Look, Fríge, if I tried to explain it to you, you'd call me crazy."

"Try me." Fríge stared him down, quite stubbornly. "We live in a crazy world, Link. Besides-" a look of annoyance flashed across her face- "you _did _come down here for my help. Might as well explain why, before I tell you to handle your mystery problem on your own."

For someone so young, she was spirited. Link threw up his hands in frustration. "Fine. But before I go on, know anything about treating open wounds?"

Fríge's hand instinctively traced the scar on her neck. Link noticed the reaction. He'd never asked about the scar. She had lots of them; Link suspected something that had to do with her parents. The one on her neck was the worst of all: bluish and jagged and prominent. It was a sensitive subject, especially now that Fríge lived alone.

"Yeah, I know a thing or two." She removed her hand from the scar, her fist clenched slightly. "Why? You said something was wrong, but not with you."

"We're the only two people living here, right?" Link was fairly certain of the answer, but maybe Fríge had some sort of second cousin that decided to stop by for a visit. Unlikely, although not impossible.

"As far as I know, yes."

Link sighed. "You know the old shrines? The ones that haven't been in use for-"

"10,000 years. Yes, I know them." Fríge walked over to the window, pointing towards the footpath. "There's lots of them around. The path leads to at least four of them. I've seen them, but I can't enter them."

"Do you think it's possible to, I don't know, live in one?"

Fríge shook her head. 'Interior looks too small, even smaller than our cabins. You'd hardly fit one person inside, and that's assuming you could open it."

Link sighed again. Nothing he didn't know, but it was good to have some degree of reassurance. "Well, that's what I thought. But what I saw five days ago changed that."

Fríge said nothing, but her brow was raised and she cocked her head slightly to the side. She was intrigued, and clearly wanted Link to continue.

"This woman just sort of… appeared there. On the pedestal. One minute it was empty and the next…" Link trailed off, allowing Fríge to fill in the blanks. "Anyway, she's injured. Badly. I did what I could but… I'm not sure if she'll make it."

Fríge leapt upright. "And you waited _five days _to tell me?!" She crossed the cabin floor, grabbing a white cloak off a peg on the wall. "We have no time to lose. If she's wounded, it could be infected, it could be festering…." She slung the cloak over her shoulders. It was a shade lighter than the dress she wore, camouflaging with the snow perfectly. Her blue leggings were something of a giveaway, but Link had always liked the color blue. The tunic he wore under his furs was the same color. Fríge ran over to her bed, pulling a satchel out from beneath it. "Apothecary supplies," she explained, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

Fríge flung the door open, welcoming the chill from outside. Link winced slightly. He'd always hated transferring from the warm interior of a cabin to the frigid outside. He gathered up the coat he'd worn, a warm thing made of wolf fur, and followed her outside.

Fríge followed Link up the mountain, taking long strides through the snow with confidence. Her legs were a lot shorter than Link's, so she struggled through deep snowdrifts more so than Link. Despite this, she pressed on, with Link occasionally struggling to keep up. This was the thing about Fríge: when someone's wellbeing was at stake, she always tried her hardest to help, even if it was physically demanding. Link admired her; he usually did his best to ensure his _own _survival. When he'd first met Fríge, she's been so kind to him, so trusting. It was a trust he didn't initially reciprocate, but as they'd grown closer and shared supplies, Link and Fríge had become like siblings.

The journey up the mountain was much more difficult than the journey down. Gravity was against them, but at least Link wasn't alone this time around. It took several hours, full of frost and pain, but they finally managed to arrive at the peak of the mountain, at Link's cabin. Nothing had changed since he'd last been there, which was a relief to Link. Hopefully nothing was amiss.

Fríge pushed the door open. Link wanted to make a snide remark about personal boundaries, but held his tongue. The situation was a bit serious.

Fríge slowly paced over to Link's bed. The woman looked paler than before, with rapid, shallow breathing.

"She's gotten worse," Link said, running his fingers through his hair. His foot anxiously tapped on the ground. Fríge pulled the blankets back, revealing the wound that marred her torso. It was open again, blood slowly seeping through the strips of cloth Link used as bandages.

"Those flags outside your house. Tear them up and bring me the fabric. I can use them to make better bandages." Fríge's soft voice had shifted to a slightly more authoritative one. Link rarely saw this side of her, but he knew that when Fríge took charge, she meant business. He hastily made his way outside, scrambling up the flagpole to tear strips of cloth from the flags.

When Link returned, he saw Fríge dumping supplies from her satchel onto the floor. Link cocked his head to the side, watching Fríge pull out random vials and dried herbs.

Again, Link had a debate about the pronunciation of "herb." He did not voice this to Fríge.

Fríge finally straightened up, victorious about… something. Upon closer inspection, Link saw her holding up a vial of pink liquid.

"What's that?"

"It's a healing elixir. Only one I have. I was able to snag it before I left for the mountains. I've been saving it for a life or death situation."

Upon closer inspection, Link saw that it wasn't just a sloshing pink liquid, but it was somehow… glowing. Interesting. Link hadn't seen anything like that, although he wasn't entirely familiar with alchemy.

"It's called fairy tonic. It's a really strong healing potion, made with the power of the fairies. Pretty neat stuff." Fríge uncorked the vial and started making her way over to the woman's bed.

"That's a liquified fairy?" Link asked in alarm.

"I hope you're joking. It's made with the _help _of a fairy."

Several dirty thoughts crossed Link's mind. Again, he did not voice this to Fríge.

Fríge tilted the woman's head up, pouring the elixir down her throat. When Fríge was convinced she had swallowed it, she let the woman's head fall back onto the pillow.

"Can you go outside? I want to properly dress the wound," Fríge said, addressing Link.

"Why?" Link waited a few seconds. "Oh. Right. Privacy."

"Sometimes I wonder how you managed to survive this long." Fríge said, laughing slightly. "Yes, Link, I need to remove her shirt to dress the wound. I doubt she wants you to see her undergarments, unconscious or not."

Link stepped outside, shaking his head slightly. He was lucky he had Fríge. She was right, he was sometimes hopeless. Not in a bad way; he was skilled at hunting and surviving. But when it came to common sense, he had a tendency to forget about the more basic aspects of survival.

Fríge finally called him back inside. Link saw that the wound was properly covered, with the bandages soaked in the remaining elixir. He exhaled a sigh of relief. "Fríge, what would I do without you?"

Fríge laughed quietly. "I don't know, Link. But it's good that we found each other. And who knows? Maybe it'll be good that we found her." She gestured back towards the sleeping woman, whose breathing had returned to normal. Pink tints had appeared on her cheeks as well, and she generally looked less like a corpse. "I'm going to stay here until she wakes up. Just in case."

-]I[-

Link and Fríge laid furs out on the ground next to the fireplace. Link did this a lot; it was much warmer the closer he got. The sky darkened quicker in Hebra than anywhere else, so the sun had set hours before. Link had provided dinner for Fríge: some of the meat he'd gotten from the moose. After all, he did owe her, after everything she'd done to help him resolve this crisis.

The two of them spent the night laughing and joking. Link was much more comfortable than he had been before, now that he wasn't worried about the woman dying. Fríge was quite entertaining, telling him stories about a monster camp she'd encountered only a week ago. Link in turn told her about the leviathan skeleton he'd found after accidentally crashing headfirst into some huge stone doors after rolling down a hill. Fríge found this hilarious, and made Link promise to show her the leviathan bones.

Link realized how much he despised being alone at the top of the mountain. With Fríge around, it was so much more homely, so much more comfortable, so much more… survivable. For once, he didn't feel like he was just surviving. He felt at home, maybe more so than he'd ever felt in his life. It was nice to have a friend with him, even if the circumstance was less than ideal. The two of them drifted off to sleep after hours of talking and laughing, and Link did so with a large grin painted across his face.

When he woke up in the morning, he was greeted with a pair of eyes staring intently at him. But they weren't Fríge's mismatched ones. They were the brightest emerald green eyes he'd ever seen.

**Hey everyone! Sorry, it's been a while. I've had a lot of changes happening along with the school year starting, including a messed up schedule and a fiasco involving a math class, but everything's settling down and updates should become more frequent. Normally I respond to reviews, but since most of them are involving your OCs (I'd love more by the way, don't be shy! Especially villains) I think I'll skip that part for now. I do want to say a huge thank you to Oracle of Hylia, Guest, Kersplunk, Viate, DOOT76, AHHHNOLD, and SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness for sending me information about your OCs. All of them will be introduced into the story at some point or another. One or two per chapter seems nice, so don't be mad if you don't see them immediately. They will arrive! (As well as some characters of my own, but they'll also be seen later.) Anyway, thank you so much for reading, and I hope to see you again soon. **

**~Silver**


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